Insights
by Primae
Summary: Lisbon had always wanted to know more about Jane. Reading his diary could bring answers to her questions, but what will be the cost ? Will it help them acknowledging their feeling for each other ? Or will it tear them apart ?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, guys, this is my first story so I hope you will like it. English is not my native language so I hope you can understant that I made some mistakes, but I hope there's not too much mistakes ! Let me know if I really did some huge mistakes. The beggining is a bit slow, but hopefully, it will get better ! **

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It was late, and she was glad to finally come home after a day spent catching a killer while trying to hold back Jane. Home. It was a word she'd never thought she could use to define this new house in Texas. But yet, now she thought of it as a home, a place where she shared countless laughs with her friends, on those many evenings she had invited them. It wasn't a house full of children's joys of cries, nor of stolen kisses in front of the fireplace, but it was her home, the place where she could receive her friends for dinner without feeling ashamed of the emptiness of its soul.

Thinking about it, there weren't a lot of people that she could count as her friends: Jane, of course, who was her best friend. The only one who would help her and support her no matter what happened. Even if he ran away, he came back. He came back, and asked for her. And she was too glad to come back too. Grace, Rigsby and Cho were really goods friends too. The ones who stick together, no matter what happened. And then were Kim and Wiley. Not really friends, though. They were mates, pals, buddies. Not friends. Not yet. A friend was somebody she could trust without even asking questions. And it was notorious that she had trust issues. So, even if they worked together for several months, she couldn't trust them entirely.

She sighed, feeling a headache coming. It had really been a long day. While she approached her house, all she could think about was a nice bath with maybe a glass of wine. But, when she arrived to the front door, she froze as something else caught her attention. An envelope, a heavy one judging by the size. She picked it up, and looked at it curiously. Her exhaustion was totally forgotten as she unlocked her door, entered her house and sat on her couch, opening the envelope. She was left to stare at a heavy book, old and very damaged. The cover was blank, exception made for the word "Diary" written in the front.

Now she was really fascinated with the mystery around this book. She picked up the envelope, hoping to find out about the sender, but she was disappointed: her name was written with handwriting that she didn't recognize. She knew it was wrong to read someone's else most intimate thoughts ( whose diary was it, anyway ?)but she was really curious, so she opened the book and started reading.

_Day 1_

_What does that mean anyway? Day One ? The first day of the rest of my life? Bullshit. That's what Angela would say. You can't start an entire life again and just forget about the previous life. You only have one life and when you screw up, it's over. There's no backing down, no escape. You burned your life, and all you have left is ashes and dust. _

_Sophie told me to write down my thoughts, so here I am. What did she thought anyway? That I would magically cure just by writing down how angry and heartbroken I am? That I could build an whole new life, just by snapping my fingers? Well, I could, actually. It's not like I'm ugly. I know a dozen of girls who would be ready to marry me, right here and right now. I could have a bunch of children and pretend to be happy. That would be a new life. A sad, heartbreaking life, but a life anyway._

_But what if I don't want a new life ? What if I want those memories to stick around in my memory palace forever? That's what Sophie doesn't understand. I don't want to move on with my life. And yet I ought to. _

_But first of all, I'm going to find him, and I'm going to kill him slowly and painfully, and I'm going to watch the angst and the pain in his eyes, and I'm going to hurt him like he hurted my family. Like he hurted me. He's mine. Red John is mine. _

She stopped reading, astonished. It was Jane's diary, for God's sake! What she read was heartbreaking, really, and she wiped off some tears as she contemplated the words written in an erratic handwriting, so different from his current handwriting. She skimmed the page, and she could feel the paper was humpy as if somebody had wept countless hours, not caring if it destroyed the diary. She felt her heart breaking in millions of pieces.

Now, what should she do? The diary was obviously intended for her: her name was written on the envelope, and she was really dying to read more about Jane. He was always so mysterious and secretive, she deserved to know more about him, right? But on the other hand, it felt wrong to sneak around his most private thoughts without his knowledge.

Maybe she should wait until the next day, and talk to him about it?

No, she decided after thinking about it. Either he would yell at her, saying she had no right to read it (because it would be obvious she had read it, given that his name wasn't mentioned anywhere) or he would took it back and pretend nothing happened. And whoever had sent her the book wanted her to read it, right?

To heck with common sense, she decided, and she focused on the words again.

_No. No focusing on Red John. My golden rule from now. That's what Sophie told me. He killed my wife and daughter, but I can't let that stop me._

" Well, that was a success" she thought ironically as she turned the page, before regretting it. He had lived hell, for God's sake! She should show a little more compassion.

_Anyway, what's the point in lying to myself? I can't just forget about this bastard. To hell with sensible behavior. He's going to get what he deserve. I'm doing it for you, Angela and Charlotte. My sweet angels. Taken too soon. If you're somewhere, high in the sky, then I hope you can read what I'm writing write now. I loved you so much. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you, Angela, when you begged me to stop. I'm sorry I always came home late at night, and I practically never saw you awake, my little and dearest Charlotte. I'm sorry I forgot to buy a new doll for Charlotte, and you had to reprimand me on the phone, Angela. I'm sorry I didn't brought your nice dress to the dry cleaner's and you didn't know what to wear to visit your parents even if you never got the chance to visit them. And I'm sorry for a lot of other things._

_I love you. Both. And I'm never giving up on you. _

_Anyway, you would have been happy, Angela. I quit a year ago, before going in a hospital. I'm fine, now. Well, I'm fine enough to get out of this hospital and start a new career. In law enforcement, can you believe it ?_

_I confess, I messed up a little with cops to get my new job. It worth it, though. I get to work on the Red John case, and my coworkers aren't that bad. Well, my "boss" (she's not technically my boss, I'm a consultant) is really sweet. It's actually refreshing to meet people who still have a life. She helped me, and I think her name is Lisbon. Her first name is a Saint's name, something like Mary… No, it's Theresa. Definitely Theresa (or maybe Teresa ? I should ask her.)_

She smiled. She remembered the day he messed up with everyone in order to access the Red John's files, and she remembered that she felt overwhelmed by his skills. The fact that he blackmailed Minelli into hiring him had really annoyed her, but she had remained professional.

Those were old days. Old time sake. She felt a bit nostalgic and she sighed. She would have never thought her world would be so overwhelmed just by one single man. And yet, here she was, old enough to have plenty of kids, and still waiting for him to notice her.

To stop herself from crying, she read the following paragraphs.

_I know I shouldn't have blackmailed those cops. They are good people, really. As long as they don't get in my way, we should be able to have a nice working relationship. They give information about Red John, I solve their stupid cases. That's the deal, and I hope they are fine with it, because that's how I'm going to work. Anyway, I found myself a couch. My desk is small and dusty, and really, what is a point in a desk? When I work, I don't need a table or anything. Just my memory palace, my brain. And maybe a cup of tea. _

She was a little disappointed. She knew at the beginning, the team was just a tool to Jane, but his cold-hearted words were really hurting her. Then she began to feel a bit scared : what if he had never cared about any of them ? What if he was just playing an act for ten years, manipulating them in order to fulfill his purpose?

Suddenly, she didn't want to read it anymore. And anyway, it was getting really late. She put the diary in her purse, and she went to bed. She will certainly have shadows under her eyes the next day.

Another sleepless night was coming.

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**A/N: Well, that's it guys, I hope you liked. Please, let me know what you thought of it, if this story is well received, maybe I'll translate it into French. Also, I'd like to know your opinion: do you think I should let Lisbon read Jane's diary in chronological order or randomly ? Please, let me know, I'm not sure what I should do. And let me reassure you: this story will not be all about Jane's diary. I'm also apologizing if somebody already used this idea before, that would be completly fortuitous.**

**Until next time guys! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : Hey guys, I initially wanted to post this chapter yesterday, but then I read it one more time, and I thought it was total crap, so I rewrote it. Hopefully it's bettet. Just have a few things to say before that. First of all, English is not my native language, so I'm not offended if you tell me I've made some mistakes ( I probably already made a bunch of mistakes ), I can imagine it must be frustrating to see umpteen mistakes when you read, so I swear I'll be very careful from now . I see you guys preferred the story to relate Jane's thoughts in chronological order so that's fine by me. In this chapter, a bit of doubts coming from Lisbon , and Jane's thoughts on his relationship with the team. **

**Disclaimer: Definitely not owning anything. Or I wouldn't be moaning over this stupid History essay I have to write by tomorrow. **

She was woken up by the sound of the rain on her windows. It was three o'clock, and she felt her muscles aching and her head pounding. Her day had really been tiring, and this whole thing with Jane's diary didn't make it more restful. She sighed as she tried to go back to sleep, staring at the shadows out there. It was raining cats and dogs, and she couldn't help thinking about Jane, who was probably awake too in his small Airstream. Insomnia was something they both experienced countless times, and it wasn't likely to just go away even after Red John's death.

She knew Jane was fine with it: he thought that sleeping what a useless thing to do, apart from when it involved napping in his couch in order to annoy her, which usually worked. At least she could thought of something that hadn't changed in her life.

She knew it was useless to just lie in her bed, when she knew that she wouldn't go back to sleep. She shrugged, and got up. Her loose jersey claiming Lisbon which still smelled like California reassured her. Even though she claimed she was strong and didn't need anything nor anyone in her life, she needed palpable landmarks in her life. Her job had been one of them: she just needed to respect rules, avoid issues as much as possible and use her gun once or twice a month. That was all.

Of course, Jane had to come and turn her comfortable reality upside down. But every time he wrecked her, manipulated her, lied to her, all she had in return was a huge grin. Every single time. But then Jane became a landmark in her life too, so she was too happy to forgive him.

They were playing a sick game, she was conscious of it: lying, hurting each other, flirting without crossing the thin line between whatever they had and romance. Did she trust his feelings enough to wait for him? Well, that was a big question, which could raise a bunch of others. She knew he needed time: a broken man can't rebuild himself easily nor quickly. But she was beginning to feel tired of waiting for something that may never happen.

She asked herself too many questions, she realized. Patrick Jane was a man of mystery, and maybe that was the reason she loved him. She loved him helplessly, unconditionally and a bit unconsciously. She fell for him a long time ago and there was no backing down.

Well, all those thoughts didn't help her headache to fade away, she thought. She went downstairs. She sat down in her couch, a cup of coffee in her hand, and contemplated the stars shining shyly in the summer sky. Perhaps reading Jane's diary could relax her a bit. This time, she didn't hesitate much: she grabbed the diary from her purse, and opened it.

_I have to confess: it's been quite a while since I haven't updated this diary. I've lost it. Well, I didn't lose it; I just put it somewhere hard to reach. Okay, I may have tossed it accidentally. Well, maybe not so accidentally. _

_Hey, I see you, Two-Dollar Diary's Soul, glaring at me. I'm sorry, okay? Well, I'm trying to be. But I think you can easily understand it's a bit embarrassing to write down your most intimate thoughts, even though they are supposed to remain secure in the unbreakable safe of my brain. Well, you can't actually understand, since you're just a Two-Dollar diary. But let's pretend you can, okay? _

This part amused Lisbon. She was started to recognize the Jane that she knew. She could actually imagine him writing with an old pen, lying in his brown couch, grinning as he made fun of a diary. She also knew Jane enough to read between the lines: he wanted to write down what he really thought, but he couldn't even share his painful memories with a diary, so he filled the paper with lame jokes, trying to convince himself he was fine.

_Anyway… Nothing happened while you were away (well, actually, while I was away, to be honest). Well, some things happened, to be COMPLETELY honest. I surprisingly got along with the team. I don't surprise myself very often, but I think I discover I can actually socialize with people without being punched two or three times, although I think they really want to punch me sometimes. _

_I can see you're hopping up and down with impatience. Serenity, eager Two-Dollar Diary ! I will describe you what kind of people they are. Well, to put it in a nutshell: they are amazing. Each one of them. Even though they're cops. Hey, stop staring at me! It's not my fault if I grew up being told cops were devils. And no, I'm no exaggerating. So cliché._

Now a huge smile was on Lisbon's face. Jane had this quasi-magical ability to make her forget her worries and her issues. Even just by reading his words, she could imagine his grin wide on his face. She had noticed his handwriting had become more confident and more readable as if he was beginning to make his mark.

_Kimball Cho. Let's talk about him. I think his mother skipped the "express your feelings" part in his education. Seriously, his face is made of plaster. Or he suffers of a rare disease which causes horrible pain every time he smiles. In fact, that's relaxing to have him by my sides. Whatever happens, he remains calm, and that's reassuring. I mean, it's not like I'm a coward (okay, maybe I'm a bit of a coward), but it's a constant that is quite comforting. And hey, it's so funny to see people freaking out because of his unchanging face. I should play poker with him once; I have this strange feeling I'll be surprised. _

_Then let's speak about Rigsby, shall we? I have to admit, first time I saw him, I was kind of freaked out by the guy. But then again, I'm not really a coward. I mean, look at him! I'd kill for muscles like his. The fact he trains everyday in CBI gym room may have played a part, and so did the fact I must have played sports twice in my life. Hopefully. In fact, I think I've found a disciple in the person of Rigsby. He's actually the only one in the team interested in my little tricks. The others really should pay attention; I bet some of them could REALLY help them. I surely won't be around forever. At the end of the day, I will either die or end up in prison. I'm not sure the police will want to work with a prisoner. Actually, I'm sure they won't. So it's time for them to take the training wheels. Okay, diary, I know what you think: that I'm a selfish and arrogant bastard. Well, you completely right. But unfortunately, I can't help it. Don't you worry though; you don't have to punish me: somebody already did that for you. _

_I almost forgot about Van Pelt. Well, that's really just a turn of phrase, because like I said: it's really exceptional for me to forget something. Van Pelt is the kind of girl I used to rip off. It's a sad thing a say but it's the pure truth. I tried to convince her that all those psychics' things were just bullshit, but she just said I was in denial about my "gift". I was tempted to answer her that I wished I were in denial about my gift from the beginning, but even though I'm a bastard, I'm not that mean. I think._

_ I could tell you so much more about her, because of her crystal clear thoughts. But I'm not going to because it's already almost 6 o'clock and the building is slowly waking up. And I don't want anyone to find out I have a diary. _

_Well, I didn't describe Lisbon yet. I'm not going to miss that part, right? _

"You're certainly not" she whispered with a broad smile.

She was impatient to read his thoughts about her: she knew she was a bit self-centered, but this would certainly solve many mysteries. Or at least she hoped.

_For me, Lisbon is… well, I can think of a better word, so let's go straight to the point: she's a friend. I can trust her, and she can trust me, even though she does not trust me. Yet. She will get there. That's actually quite funny, given that we're really not alike: she's one of the most selfless and honest person I've ever met. Adjectives that can hardly apply to me. Very hardly. She deserves to be the boss, even though she's not MY boss (though she thinks she is)._

_ In fact, that's hard to describe her. Maybe it's because I'm not sure what I feel for her. Don't get me wrong, diary, I don't have any romantic feelings for her, but… I'm not sure what kind of relationship we have. _

_Anyway. I'll update you more often, I swear, even though it's unlikely that I'll keep my word. _

With those words Jane's little tale ended.

She closed the diary, not so sure about whether she like what she read or not. Jane had this strange ability to make her feel insecure about things she was sure of previously.

Reading his diary was entertaining even though some parts (particularly when he described her) unsettled her. She was surprised not to feel guilty about reading it anymore, and for a brief moment, she asked herself if he would guess she had found his diary and read it. He always said she was a very bad liar, and she wondered how she was going to act normally after what she had read. She would see Jane the next day and she had no idea how she was going to pretend nothing happened.

" Tomorrow is another day" she thought resolutely before putting the diary back in her purse.

**A/N: I voluntarily didn't set this part in any particular episode. It takes place in the first season, that's for sure. I know the characters are a bit OOC, but I like them this way. Jane has changed since the last chapter, and I hope you can sense it. Anyway, let me know what you think, and see you guys soon for the following chapter! Thank you for your lovely reviews, they mean a lot to me! **


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